Abide by the love of literature
We have always been less human than human,
In the glare of pathetic greed, we are leading,
Like never before, or like every Single time.
There isn’t any sign of togetherness,
Good deeds, a better past, or our glory,
If there is, it’s rare, so we share.
Shamelessly.
A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:Its loveliness increases; it will neverPass into nothingness; but still will keepA bower quiet for us, and a sleepFull of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathingA flowery band to bind us to the earth,Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearthOfContinue reading “A thing of Beauty is a joy for ever – by john Keats”
Whimpers in the maze of tough thoughts,A life with lenity.A thought of seeking coincidence,With wondrous epiphany. A morning that seeks night,But couldn’t.A night that seeks dawn,But couldn’t. It stays within,And asks quietly,Whether you’re,what you areor not?? When not heard,It stays where it belongs,Like a snail in its shell.
Sitting besides the blue-ish river of Atlanta,
Staring, the filled sky with grains,
Glittering in the nights.
He beseeches for a masterpiece.
अब कहाँ विकट अँधेरे में,
उजाले ढूंढ़ा करते हो ।
फिर आश बढ़ा उन लासों में,
इन्सानियत ढूंढ़ा करते हो ।
बुनियाद बानी थी फूसों की,
महलों को ताका करते हो ।
फिर आज घने अँधेरे में ,
राहों को देखा करते हो ।
